To Catch a Bad Guy (19 page)

Janet stared at the
computer screen in her office. Last night had been fun. A bit too much fun, she
had to admit, but, boy, it felt great to be basking in its afterglow.

After they had left the
corporate party, Wyman took her to Gilt – the swanky restaurant located in the
historic Villard Mansion in midtown, Manhattan that was designed for seduction.
No doubt Wyman had taken many of his conquests to that very place, but he did
not get his way with Janet last night. She could sense his expectant,
self-assured gaze on her throughout the meal He was the kind of man who was used
to women succumbing to his charisma, which made it so much more delightful for
Janet to say no. Not that she was impervious to Wyman’s charms – she was only
human, but now that she had a different purpose in mind, Wyman had become a
tool in her plans. Last night she was seducing him as much as he was trying to
seduce her, only Janet’s objective was information, while Wyman’s aim was a bit
more carnal.

However, Janet had to
admit that Tom Wyman would be a tough nut to crack. She had spent the entire
evening trying to get Wyman to open up about the work he did for Bostoff
Securities. She had employed admiration, flattery, and simple naïve curiosity,
but Wyman had remained bullet-proof, only allowing the most general of
statements. Yes, he had helped incorporate entities for Bostoff, and yes, he
drafted contracts for the firm, but other than that, Janet was none the wiser
today than she had been the day before.

With a sigh, Janet
grabbed her cell phone and dialed Katie’s number. After all, Katie worked for a
law firm, and she might be able to help her.

“Hello, there,” Katie’s
voice rang cheerfully in the receiver. “It’s about time you called.”

Janet felt an instant
flash of guilt: she had not spoken with Katie since the evening Dean Snider had
interrupted their girls’ night out. “I meant to call earlier, but it’s gotten
so crazy at work…”

“So, how is Dean in the
sack?”

“Katie!” Even though it
was impossible for anyone to hear them, Janet blushed. “What are you talking
about?”

“Not what, but whom,
and you know damn well whom I’m talking about: that handsome IT guy from your
job. Dean. You could at least thank me for tactfully leaving the two of you to
enjoy each other’s company.”

“Thank you. And by the
way, how was the deposition?”

“What deposition? Oh,
never mind; there was no deposition, and you know it. Now, dish the goods.”

So much for talking
about the stuff that matters, Janet thought. Katie was an excellent lawyer, but
lately she had been placing personal matters over professional ones.

“Well, if you must know,
nothing happened: he saw me home, and then we walked Baxter together.”

“A real gentleman,”
Katie sighed. “Last night, my date insisted on coming up to my apartment as
payment for walking me home, and he did not even buy me a drink. We met at an
open bar, which does not even make him my date; he was just some guy I picked
up at a legal seminar. God, those things are awful, as awful as the men who
attend them. See how I’ve fallen? And there you are, with a perfectly fine
specimen of the male gender vying for your attention…”

“I’m sorry.” Janet
stifled a smile. Katie had such a sense of the dramatic. “But I’m afraid my
life is not as exciting as you think. We were supposed to go together to the
corporate party for Lisa’s engagement, but he never showed.”

“That doesn’t sound
good. Did he actually ask you to be his date?”

“Sort of, but I never
committed.”

“Sounds to me like
someone is having commitment issues, and now you’re upset that he didn’t show
up? Next time he asks, you’d better say ‘yes.’”

“Okay, Dr. Phil,” Janet
conceded. Katie did have a point. “But seriously, I called because I wanted to
talk to you.”

“We are talking.”

“About something
important.”

“Are you telling me
that having a sex life is not important? Keep thinking like that and you’ll
never get one. Take it from the expert in the area.”

Janet was about to blow
her fuse. “Can you meet me for a drink after work tonight?”

“No can do. I’ve got a
date. And I suggest you get one too by asking Dean out - men like it when women
show initiative.”

Janet was just about to
come up with a retort, but Katie beat her to it.

“Sorry, hon, I’ve got
to run. My boss is on the other line, but call me tomorrow, and we’ll dish.”

Janet stared at her
cell phone. Katie had given her an idea. Perhaps she should talk to Dean after
all. Not about their failed ‘date’ of course, but about her misgivings
regarding Bostoff Securities. She had almost brought up the topic the evening
they had been walking Baxter together, but never had worked up the courage to
say anything of substance. After all, she could not very well voice her
suspicions to someone she barely knew. Yet, something in Dean’s expression had
made her think that perhaps she had been wrong. Perhaps, like her, Dean
suspected that all was not kosher with Bostoff’s business, and maybe together
they could get to the bottom of things.

***

Dennis Walker looked
aimlessly at his desk. There were things he could be doing instead: things he
had to get done, like preparing memos for his boss or scouring for any
suspicious events on Bostoff’s trading floor, but he found it impossible to
concentrate on any of his tasks. His mind was occupied by thoughts of Janet
Maple. The sight of her leaving the party last night with that dog Wyman hung
before Dennis’s eyes: what could she have possibly seen in that creep? But then
Dennis was not blind to his opposition. There were plenty of things that made
Tom Wyman, Esq. attractive to women. His lucratively paying job for one, his
polished manner and sharp clothes ─ all of those were the advantages that
Tom Wyman had over the persona of Dean Snider.

God, Dennis was sick
and tired of this charade! For the first time since he had begun his career as
investigator of financial crimes, Dennis found himself on the brink of quitting
a case because of a woman. It was immature, he knew, but his desire for Janet
and his competitive spirit towards Wyman were getting the better of him. Dennis
adjusted his tie, loosening the collar of the cheap shirt that was making his
neck chafe. Once the Bostoff case would be over with, he would burn all of Dean
Snider’s clothes in a celebratory bonfire.

He had to think calmly.
Quitting was not an option. He owed it to his boss to finish the case. Ham Kirk
could be a pain in the ass, but the man did put considerable trust in Dennis.
Successful completion of the Bostoff Securities investigation would finally
bring Ham the promotion the old man had been coveting all these years, and
Dennis, sure as hell, was not going to backstab Kirk by ruining his chances.
Besides, there was no proof that Janet had actually fallen for Wyman’s charms.
Yes, the two had left the party together last night, but for all Dennis knew,
their subsequent rendezvous could have ended with Janet throwing a drink in
Wyman’s face. He should go and see her to explain his missing her at the party
last night. After all, he had promised to meet her there, but thanks to Ham
Kirk, Wyman had beaten Dennis to the punch.

Dennis was about to get
up from his desk when he noticed Janet walking in his direction. His pride
swelled at the thought that she was coming to see him. He had been right. That
pig Wyman had nothing on him. Quickly, Dennis opened a random program on his
computer and started typing away feverishly, doing his best to appear intensely
busy.

“Hello, there.” Dressed
in a wrap dress that hugged every single one of her tantalizing curves, Janet
smiled at him.

Dennis looked up from
his screen. “How is it going?” His voice came out terser than he intended. He
could not help it: he was still mad at her.

“Good.” She looked
slightly perplexed. “It’s Friday,” she announced the obvious, no doubt hoping
for him to save the conversation.

“Yes, it is,” Dennis
confirmed.

“I missed you at the
party last night. I thought you were going to be my date.”

“I got held up at work.
But it looked like you did not have any shortage of dates,” he added dryly.
Shut up, you moron! Just shut up, his reason screamed, but it was too late – he
was beyond common sense.

“You were at the party?
Why didn’t you say hello?”

“Because you were busy
flirting with Tom Wyman. I didn’t want to interrupt you.” What are you doing?
Dennis thought frantically. You’re ruining it!

“We were just having a
friendly conversation.”

“I saw you leave with
him.” Might as well add oil to the fire, Dennis thought. It was as though a
flood gate had broken inside him.

Janet reddened. “Well,
I never... Clearly, you’re having a bad day; we’ll talk some other time.” Janet
swung around and started walking away from his desk.

“Janet!” Dennis kicked
his chair back as he rushed after her. “I’m sorry.” He touched her arm. “I
don’t know what came over me. I’m under a tight deadline. That’s why I was late
to the party last night…” Dennis broke off, wondering if he could still salvage
the situation.

“That’s all right, I
understand.”

“Could I make it up to
you? Let me buy you dinner tonight.”

She paused momentarily,
weighing his offer.

“Purely as a peace
offering,” Dennis added.

“All right, but we’re
going to split it. How does six o’clock sound?”

“Sounds great. Do you
like Indian food?”

“I love Indian food.”
The tone of her voice made it clear that his transgressions were forgiven.

“Great. I’ll make a
reservation at Tamarind restaurant for six o’clock. I’ll meet you in the lobby
at five thirty?”

“I’ll see you there.”

“See you there,” Dennis
mouthed as he watched Janet walk away.

Once he saw Janet leave
the floor, Dennis grabbed his cell phone and rushed downstairs. He needed to
secure his boss’s permission to recruit an inside source.

Janet looked at Dean
walking beside her. At first, she had been hesitant about accepting Dean’s
dinner invitation. His earlier outburst at having seen her at the corporate
party with Wyman had taken her aback. But then everyone was entitled to blowing
a lid now and then, and Dean did have an excuse. He was under a lot of pressure
at work, and Janet could only guess that dealing with the trading types at
Bostoff day in, day out was no walk in the park. Besides, she had to admit
that, as childish as it sounded, Dean’s reaction was also flattering. If seeing
her with Wyman had upset him that much, he had to see her as more than just a
coworker. This realization brought a smile to her lips. Dean did like her after
all. But then she had guessed it all along – had sensed it from their first
meeting when she had found him in her office, fixing her computer, but now she
knew for sure. And from the way Dean spoke about Tom Wyman, it was obvious that
Dean owed no loyalty to Wyman or his machinations, which meant that she could
speak freely to Dean about her suspicions of Bostoff. Maybe he would help her
decide what to do next.

She had wanted to bring
up the subject of Bostoff Securities during dinner, but somehow the right
moment never came up. Dean had been his charming self, making Janet laugh
hysterically at work war stories he was so apt at telling, but when he thought
she was not looking, Janet noticed a worried look stealing over his eyes. She
had wanted to ask him what was on his mind, but thought better of it. After
all, they were merely coworkers, hardly close at all.

Now, as they approached
her building, Janet could sense the earlier unease coming over Dean again. It
was as though he wanted to tell her something, but could not get the right
words to come out.

Janet lowered her eyes.
They were about to say good night. She had missed her chance to talk to Dean,
unless…

“Would you like to come
up for a drink?” Janet offered, almost instantly regretting her invitation. She
did not want Dean to get the wrong impression, but neither did she want to say
goodbye to him just yet.

He seemed to sense her
hesitation, so he made his reply casual. “Sure. A drink would be great. All
that spicy food made me thirsty.”

“Follow me.”

“I already know the
way.”

“That’s right.” She
smiled. “Baxter will be very excited to see you.”

While they rode up in
the elevator, Janet tried to remember the contents of her bar, or to be more
precise, the section of the cupboard in her kitchen that served as a bar. She
had a bottle of Jameson she had bought specifically for the times that Mrs.
Chapman stopped by, as a way to thank her neighbor for walking Baxter. There
ought to be something left on the bottom of that one, Janet thought. She was
not a big whiskey fan, but Mrs. Chapman was quite a whiskey aficionado. There
was also some Apple Sour Martini Mix, but no vodka to mix it with, and two
bottles of Sam Adams in the fridge. Janet had been meaning to restock her
supplies, but now it was too late to retract her invitation. She just hoped
that Dean was not much of a drinker.

“Here we are.” Janet
slid her key into the front lock. Instantly, Baxter’s barking, accompanied by
the sound of his paws scraping against the floor, exploded from behind the
door.

“Baxter can’t wait to
see you,” Janet grinned, wishing the lock would open already. All this noise
was liable to stir Mrs. Chapman out of her apartment. Ever since Dean’s visit
earlier in the week, Mrs. Chapman had been peppering Janet with questions about
the charming young man from her job.

As if on cue, her
neighbor’s door opened, and Mrs. Chapman shuffled into the hallway, carrying a
garbage bag.

“Oh, hello there,
Janet.” Mrs. Chapman peered at Janet and Dean with a sly smile on her lips.

“Good evening, Mrs.
Chapman.” Janet inwardly cursed the finicky door lock. It had been jamming for
the past few weeks, and she had meant to talk to the super about it, but had
never gotten around to it. “This is Dean – my coworker.”

“Good evening.” Dean
smiled.

“Yes, I remember.” Mrs.
Chapman nodded. “Well, I’ll be on my way.” Mrs. Chapman headed toward the
garbage room.

Finally, the lock
clicked. Janet cracked the front door open and was instantly ambushed by
Baxter.

“Hello, Baxter.” Dean
bent down to pet Baxter. At the sign of this attention, Baxter abandoned Janet
and ran toward Dean, barking excitedly.

“He remembers you!”
Janet observed, inwardly assuring herself that she was not hurt by Baxter’s
defection.

“Of course he does.”
Dean scratched Baxter behind his ear, the latter being frozen still in
mesmerized ecstasy.

“Make yourself at
home.” Janet motioned to the living room. “I’ll go see about that drink.”

“Great. I’ll keep
Baxter company.”

Janet’s apartment had a
galley kitchen open on either end, and as she inspected the contents of her cupboards,
she caught a glimpse of Dean walking into the living room. Baxter’s tiny
footsteps followed his new subject of adoration and stopped as Dean took a seat
on the couch, showering Baxter with compliments like “good boy” and “smart
fella.” Apparently, even Baxter, who was usually extremely skeptical of
strangers, was helpless before Dean’s charm. Janet opened the cupboard that
held the liquor and inspected the contents of the Jameson bottle. She had been
overly optimistic in her expectations, as Mrs. Chapman’s last visit had left
the bottle only one quarter full. Still, that would probably be enough. And
then there were two bottles of Sam Adams in her fridge.

Janet joined Dean in
the living room. Baxter who lay curled up by Dean’s feet, merely acknowledged
her entrance with a slight wave of his tail. “I’m afraid I don’t have much of a
variety.”

“I’m easy.” Dean
grinned. “Anything you’ve got will do.”

“Jameson or Sam
Addams?”

“Jameson, neat.”

“One Jameson coming
up.”

Janet returned to the
kitchen and poured a liberal portion of whiskey into Dean’s glass and added a
splash into her own glass.

“Here you are.” Janet
placed Dean’s glass in front of him.

“Cheers.” Dean raised
his glass to his lips.

“Cheers.” Janet took a
small sip, resisting the urge to grimace at the whiskey scent tickling her
nose. She glanced at Dean. His drink was half-empty: most likely he would not
stay for another one. She had to ask him now. “Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“Last time, when we
were walking Baxter, you asked me if I noticed anything suspicious at Bostoff…”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I noticed a few things
that are funky to say the least.”

Dean looked at her
expectantly, waiting for her to continue.

“Well, for one thing,
their client base is anything but stellar. Emperial, Creaton, Rigel, Gemini,
and Sphinx are Bostoff’s biggest clients.”

“I remember reading
about them in the papers. They were accused of being, what’s the term, market
raiders. But then nothing has been proven against them.”

“That’s true. Still,
many firms would not sign up such clients, but Bostoff has been most lenient: they
have incomplete files for all of them.”

“That could be a coincidence.”

“A very convenient one
at that. I’ve seen the trading these guys do—they can tank a company in a
matter of days. Don’t tell me that that’s a coincidence too.”

“Were all these trades
from the hedge funds you mentioned?” Dean asked.

“Up until recently,
yes. But now, there’s this new company—Impala Group, and it’s sending the same
volume of trades that Emperial used to send, but Emperial is hardly trading at
all now.” Janet paused. “Something tells me that Emperial is connected to
Impala group.”

“Janet,” Dean halted,
reaching out to touch Janet’s arm.

“Yes?”

Dean took a deep
breath. “I need to tell you something. You might not like it. In fact, you
might throw me out of your apartment for telling it to you, but I need to tell
you anyway.”

Janet’s eyes widened.
“What is it?”

“I am not really an IT
specialist,” Dean said.

“You’re not?”

“No.” He shook his
head. “That is, I’m pretty good with computers, but it’s not what I do
professionally.”

“What do you do?”

“I work for the
Treasury Investigations department.”

“What?” Janet had to
make a physical effort to keep her jaw from dropping. “And you’re telling me
this now?”

“Our department has
been investigating Bostoff Securities for several months. Once we secured a
court order to go undercover, I was put on the job.” Dean spoke
matter-of-factly, impartially, as though he were a different person from the
man Janet had just had dinner with. “The reason I’m telling you this is that
Treasury would like your assistance with the case. I have cleared it with my
supervisor. If you decide to aid us in the investigation, no charges will be
brought against you personally for the duration of your employment with
Bostoff. It sounds to me like you have already got quite a bit of information
that we could use. If you agreed to cooperate with us, you would be a great
asset to the investigation. You don’t have to answer me right now, but I would
appreciate an answer by Monday morning.”

“By Monday morning?”
Janet sank back into the couch, pressing her hands against her face. Instantly,
her own doubts about Bostoff Securities became irrelevant. Those were based on
the information obtained by means she was entitled to have access to. Well,
maybe not entirely entitled to have access to, but still, her actions paled in
comparison to Dean’s. The seemingly charming, witty Dean she had fantasized
about kissing was an undercover rat, propositioning her to become a snitch. He
was a cold-hearted snoop, on the hunt to shut down the firm and ruin the lives
of the people who worked for it. But worst of all was his leading Janet to
believe that he was actually interested in her, while all he wanted was her
help in getting dirt on Bostoff.

“Well, I’ll be going
now.” Dean rose from his seat. There was no hesitation in his movements or his
voice. Each had been deliberately calculated, just as his previous interactions
with Janet had been.

Baxter tiptoed after
Dean and barked in a farewell salute, ignoring Janet’s command to stay by her
side.

As if in a dream, Janet
heard Dean’s footsteps and the sound of the front door shutting behind him.

Baxter returned and lay
coiled by Janet’s feet.

“Now you come back?”
Janet looked at Baxter who barked and looked back at her unflinchingly. But
then she herself had been a victim of Dean’s charms, so how could Baxter be
expected to fare any better? “Well, Baxter, it turns out your judgment of
character is as bad as mine,” said Janet, as she stared into the ceiling,
wondering what to do next.

***

Once inside his
apartment, Dennis Walker grabbed a beer from the fridge. He lay down on the
couch, contemplating his behavior with Janet Maple and wondering what on earth
had possessed him to breach every line of protocol he had abided by in his
investigative career up until now. He knew how to get an inside source to
collaborate: he had done it so many times, it became a routine. You got some
dirt on them first, making it impossible for them to turn down the deal and
thus securing their collaboration. Did he have any dirt on Janet Maple? Not in
the least: all he had was his hunch that she suspected that something was wrong
with Bostoff and that, like he, she did not approve of it. He wished he could
have waited to get closer to her, but time was a luxury he could not afford. He
needed answers yesterday. He had three weeks left to work the case, and he was
nowhere near a good starting point. Meanwhile, Bostoff was getting away with
this scheme, aided by that scum of a lawyer, Wyman. Janet was the key. She
could get close to Wyman. If she agreed to help Dennis, together they could
solve this scheme.

Janet’s got to say yes,
Dennis thought. She had to, or Dennis would be in deep trouble. His having
revealed the truth behind his employment with Bostoff Securities gave Janet the
upper hand. Dennis had not thought of that when he had been in the heat of the
moment, confessing to her, which, in hindsight, made him a pretty bad agent - a
rookie, really. It would have been easy to plead this excuse, but Dean knew the
true root of his predicament. He was a pro at the investigation game. What he
was a rookie at was having feelings for a woman. It had been a long time – not
since his fiancée had deserted him. Now, Dean was troubled to admit that Janet
Maple had somehow managed to stir emotions in him that he thought he would
never feel again.